


From the Briny Depths

by LittleMissMage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, Merman Castiel, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pirate Dean, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5157044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissMage/pseuds/LittleMissMage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EDIT: I've decided to make it official that I've stopped working on writing this. My motivation to write it started diminishing by the time I realized I had no set storyline and determined ending. This, along with the fact that I'm no longer a very large fan of Supernatural any more and my realization earlier this year that I'm not really into men, not to mention that this isn't my best writing, led me to the decision to abandon this work. That being said, you can still read it if you want, but please recognize that it's rather old and by no means a standard by which to judge any future writing I publish. Thank you for reading.</p><p>Castiel never should have followed that ship. He never should have thought humans were anything but brutal monsters. He never should have let his guard down--especially around that handsome human with bright green eyes. But it's too late now. The only thing he can do now is try to survive in this world above water, a world that's entirely new to him, rife with adventure, suspense, and--dare he say it--love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Holy snap, this is the first chapter! I don't really have much to say, but please enjoy! I'll try to update when I can.  
> Please leave comments! Your feedback is important to me.  
>  
> 
> Obviously, I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

Castiel strokes the weathered hull of the ship, feeling the rough, wet wood under his fingertips. The ragged surface is dotted here and there with barnacles, but other than that, the vessel seems very well cared-for. He first saw it when it sailed right over his head a few nautical miles back, scaring away the fish he had been hunting. He knew it was dangerous and filled with humans, but curiosity got the best of him once again. He swims alongside it underwater for a few more seconds before breaching the surface to see what the rest of it looks like. The words _Black Impala_ are painted on the bow in gold lettering, shining in the Caribbean sun. Looking up, Castiel can see billowing white sails peeking over the side of the hull.

  
After a cursory glance around, Castiel decides the coast is clear, and rolls onto his back as he swims, sighing happily. The sun-warmed water feels wonderful on his skin, and he likes the way the scales of his tail flash in the bright light, reflecting onto the ship's worn wooden bow. He's having a lovely time, barely even dampened by the fact that he has to keep a look out for the humans that are so close in proximity to him, doing whatever it is they do on deck. He briefly closes his eyes in bliss--only for a good-sized wave to roll off the bow and smack him in the face. He opens his eyes instantly, coughing and sputtering out a string of curses while beating his tail viciously in order to stay upright. After getting over the surprise, Castiel realizes where he is and looks around nervously, but it's too late.

  
There's a human staring down at him.

  
Castiel is frozen in place. All the stories told to him when he was but a hatchling flood back to him: stories of humans catching merfolk in their strong, strangling nets; humans using merfolk as slaves, or keeping them as curiosities to gawk at, or killing them just because they could. The fear is obvious on Castiel's face as he looks up, frozen in place, at the human, who is equally still and shocked-looking, gaping down at him.

  
They stay staring at each other like that for nearly half a minute before Castiel realizes that the human hasn't attacked him. "H-hello?" he asks cautiously, his voice sounding more gravelly and deep than it usually does underwater.

  
The human remains still for a couple seconds before closing his mouth and gaining a more relaxed composure. "Hi." he says casually, as if talking to an old friend. "How's it going?"

  
Castiel wasn't expecting this.

  
His head-fins flare nervously as he tries to think of something to say. "Are you going to kill me?"

  
The man smiles. "Of course not! Why the hell would I do that?"

  
Castiel flounders for words. "Because... because you're a human."

  
"So? What does that have to do with anything?"

  
"I..." Castiel is interrupted by a loud rumble. He looks around for its source, before realizing it was his stomach. It occurs to him that he hasn't eaten in several hours--those fish that the ship drove off were supposed to be his next meal, but obviously, the ship had scared them off.

  
"Are you hungry?" the human asks. Castiel nods, embarrassed.

  
"I can get you some food, if you want." says the human. "You'll have to come closer, though. You know, so I can give it to you."

  
Castiel might be scared, but he is really hungry. He slowly swims closer to the human, who smiles reassuringly. The human's eyes are bright green--greener than the eyes of any merperson. "There we go," the man says. "I'm just going to go get the food now." He turns away and disappears from sight. Castiel has a bad feeling in his gut--something is very, very wrong about this whole situation. _It's a trap,_ he realizes, but it's too late. A loud shout echoes from the ship's deck. He tries to swim away, but he doesn't get very far before something splashes into the water above him, and a heavy net drops down onto him. The harder he thrashes around in the net, trying to get free, the more he is entangled. Even his sharp claws and teeth are no match for the tough fiber. He feels the net shift around him, and hopes desperately that they're letting him go, but instead he's being lifted slowly out of the water. With each sharp, repetitive tug on the net, he's jolted higher and higher until he's fully out in the open air.

  
He's roughly shoved over the railing of the ship before being tossed onto the deck. He writhes and squirms in the net, but his hands are held firmly in place by his sides, and the rope is slowly cutting off the circulation to his tail. He glares up at the humans watching him, snarling and furiously spitting curses. He twists onto his back, and looks up right into the face of...

  
the green-eyed man from before.

  
"You." he hisses, venom in his voice.

  
The man shrugs. "It wasn't my idea."

  
Castiel tries to reply with some kind of scathing insult, but feels himself growing weaker and weaker by the second. _Merfolk aren't meant to be above water,_ he thinks blearily. He can barely breathe--his gills are flapping wildly on his neck, struggling to find water, any water at all, to breathe, but the air is too dry. Why did he even decide to follow this damn ship in the first place? He looks up at the green-eyed man in one last silent, desperate plea for help. "H-help..." he manages to choke out. Through his blurry vision, he can make out a concerned expression on the man's face. To Castiel's surprise, he bends down and begins to untangle the net, using a dagger to cut the tougher knots. The last thing Castiel can remember before he passes out is the feeling of strong arms holding him and carrying him somewhere, though he has no means of knowing where.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWWW YEAH CHAPTER TWO
> 
> I don't own Supernatural.

Castiel wakes up, heaving and panting heavily. He just had the worst dream...

Wait.

His breathing feels... strange. He brushes his fingertips against the side of his neck, trying to feel what's wrong with his gills, but...

_No. This isn't right._

His gills are gone.

He jolts into a sitting position, reaching for his tail, but it too is gone. In place of his tail are two bony limbs...

_Legs._

He has legs.

Oh no. This cannot be happening.

Is he... human?

Castiel thinks he's going to be sick. He can barely even think--everything is so new. He doesn't feel like himself. He has no idea where he even is. _This is not my body,_ he thinks. _This is not me, it can't be, it's impossible._ He rolls over onto his side and curls up into a ball, bringing his knees to his chest. As his breaths become more steady and deep, less shallow, he realizes he is crying. The tears run hot and fast down his face, and he clutches the layers of fabric laying over his body close to himself. He does nothing to stop the tears, and cries in silence until the rocking of the room puts him to sleep.

* * *

 

"Hey. Hey, wake up. Come on." A soft voice gently rouses Castiel from his slumber. He slowly opens his eyes, blinking a few times. As his vision clears, he realizes there's someone looking down at him. _The green-eyed man._ "Thank God you're awake." he says, running a hand through his short, sandy hair. "I was getting worried. You've been out for almost a whole day."

"Who... who are you?" Castiel mumbles. The man smiles. Now that he's so close, Castiel notices a light dusting of freckles across his face.

"Call me Dean."

"Where am I? What happened to me?"

"You're..." Dean hesitates, putting two fingers to his temple. "Ah, God, this is going to be hard to explain. You passed out a few minutes after we hauled you on deck. We almost thought you were dead, but your breathing stabilized, so we put you to bed, here in my cabin. About halfway through the night is when the... changes started."

"Changes?" "Yeah. You... you started yelling, screaming. You quieted down real fast a few minutes later; at first, we were worried you might have died, but you were just unconscious. That's when I noticed your tail was gone."

"Am I... am I a human?" Castiel asks worriedly.

Dean shrugs. "Maybe? I don't really know. I mean, you look mostly human, but you still have those fin things on your head."

Castiel reaches up to the sides of his head, relieved to feel his head-fins intact and well. Thank goodness. He would hate to have those strange little fleshy ears the humans have. He breathes a sigh of relief.

"So," Dean questions, "Do you have any idea how this happened?"

Castiel chews his lower lip in thought."I have no clue. I've never heard of it before, though for all I know, it could be perfectly normal. We merfolk do everything we can to stay away from humans, and we certainly never go near the shore."

"Why don't you like humans?" Dean ponders. "I remember yesterday you asked if I was going to kill you. What's up with that?"

Castiel sighs. _Do I really have to tell the whole story?_ he thinks. "Thousands of years ago, merfolk and humans used to get along without any problems. It was a peaceful, prosperous time for both species. Then, one day, a human trade ship on a long voyage suddenly crashed into a rocky outcropping which an old sea witch and her daughter lived under. The two were completely innocent--the sailors on board that ship should have known that area was dangerous. However, when the next ship came into the area, the crew... did not react well. They saw the ruined ship dashed on the rocks and immediately blamed the mermaids. They called them sirens, monsters, man-eaters. The sailors... they killed those innocent mermaids in a fit of rage. Since then, we have stayed far away from humans. Even then, though, I have heard stories of merfolk straying too close to the shore and being harpooned, or captured by humans, never to return." Castiel concluded. "That is why I was scared of you."

"But why did you come up to our ship then?"

Castiel hesitates. "I..." _Should I tell him?_ "I was just curious." he lies. "I wanted to see what humans were really like, but I didn't intend to be seen, of course." Dean nods, though something tells Castiel he isn't entirely buying it. "So why did you capture me?" Castiel asks, changing the subject.

Dean places a hand on the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "It wasn't my idea. Bobby, my navigator, suggested it. He... well, we're trying to get information, and thought you might be able to tell us something."

"Information? On what?"

He sighs. "My dad... he went missing a couple months back. Kidnapped, by the looks of it. I was returning to the island where he lives--he's not what you'd call 'social'--to pay him a visit, and he was just gone. And I know he didn't just leave on his own. When I got there, his door had been broken down, and the papers from his desk were scattered all over the place. Not only that, there was this thick green liquid spattered on the walls, and there were some scales lying on the floor. Not just normal scales, though: they were silvery blue, and this big." Dean holds his thumb and index finger about an inch and a half apart. "I have to find him, and Bobby got the idea that since we were hunting some kind of sea monster, we might be able to get some information on it from another ocean... creature... person. I didn't know he was going to do this, but he thought it would be most effective. Seems the rest of the crew thought so too, because they overruled me."

"Overruled?"

"Yeah. Even though I'm the captain, my crewmates can still overrule my decisions if enough of them agree on something."

"Oh." Castiel nods. "I see."

"So," Dean continues, "Do you have any idea what we're looking for?"

Castiel shakes his head. "I'm afraid not."

"Well, that was a waste of time. Listen, Castiel, I'm sorry all this had to happen to you."

Castiel smiles faintly. "It's okay. I have been through much worse. I hope you find your father."

Dean smiles. "Thanks. So, do you want to leave?" he asks. "I mean, you don't have to stay if you want."

Castiel pauses, considering the options. "Where is this ship going?"

Dean looks surprised, but answers nonetheless. "New England."

"How far away is that?"

"About two thousand miles."

Castiel nods affirmatively. "Then I'll come with you."

"...Okay." Dean says slowly. "Although, if you want to sail with me, you'll sail as part of the crew. How strong are you?"

Castiel shrugs. "Decently strong, I suppose. I once killed a hammerhead shark that was trying to eat my sister."

Dean smiles. "Then welcome to the crew, Castiel. It's a pleasure to have you on board."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

"So, where do I start?" Castiel asks, curious. "You said I was part of the crew now. What do I do?"

"Well..." Dean hesitates. "We should probably get you some clothes first."

 _Oh. Right._ Castiel shifts uncomfortably and realizes that with human legs comes external genitalia. _Embarrassing and inconvenient all at once; no wonder humans wear clothes all the time._ "That is a good idea."

Dean gets up and walks over to one corner of the room. "Just stay right there." He opens a large chest and rifles through it, eventually fishing out a few pieces of clothing and tossing them onto the bed. "You can change—I'll leave you alone." He opens the cabin door and walks out, quietly closing the door behind him. Castiel sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, throwing the covers off of him. He runs a hand through his hair, which is messy and sticks up all over the place, now filled with salt. He sighs and flops back down on the bed, before rolling onto his stomach to get a good look at the clothes. They seem fairly standard, at least judging by the brief glimpses he’d gotten at the other men on board—a white shirt, brown pants, and a smaller pair of pants, which he guesses go under the first pair, since he hadn’t seen them on anyone else. He sits up, which he notices takes more effort than it did underwater, and slowly stands up on shaking legs. He sticks out one leg, trying to take a step, and instantly falls forward, collapsing face-first onto the floor. He sighs. _This is going to take a while to get used to._ He manages to push himself up on his hands and knees, and slowly stands up, using the bedframe to support himself. _This is a start,_ he tells himself. _I can do this._ With some struggle, he manages to take a couple wobbly steps, even standing up on his own. He awkwardly wriggles into the clothes, which are just a little bit big, and walks shakily over to the mirror hanging on the wall. His reflection looks lost and confused, nothing like the strong, powerful merman he was barely a day ago. _Oh well,_ he thinks. _No going back now. I wanted to go far away, and now I will._

He walks to the door and pushes it open slowly and cautiously. Among the sea of unfamiliar faces, he spots Dean leaning casually against the railing. He smiles and walks over to Castiel. "There you are!" he says, a grin adorning his freckled face. "Look at you, walking and everything." His gaze pans over Castiel, looking him up and down, and he nods in approval. "It's good to see you up."

"So, this is the former merman?" an unfamiliar voice pipes up. A short, redhead woman bounces over to them, beaming like the sun. "Nice to meet you!" she says cheerily, holding out one hand. "Castiel, right? The name's Charlie. I was working belowdecks when the brutes hauled you up here. This spoilsport" —she jabs a thumb over her shoulder at Dean— "refused to let me come see you." Castiel stares at the female's hand, outstretched towards him. He glances confusedly at Dean, who seems to be trying to repress laughter.

"Not one for handshakes?" Charlie asks. "Ah, it's fine. I understand, no problem."

"Shouldn't you be doing something, Charlie?" Dean cuts in playfully. "Those islands won't spot themselves."

Charlie frowns, deflated-looking. "Aye-aye, Captain." she salutes and flounces away, her gold bangles jingling from the movement.

Dean watches her go with a smile. "Don't mind her—she's harmless." he assures, patting Castiel on the back affectionately. "I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew soon enough. But how are you feeling?"

"G-good, I think." Castiel says. "To be honest, I feel a little overwhelmed. Everything is just so new and different. I've never been out of the water for this long before. In fact, I think before this, the longest time I had been above the surface was only about five minutes."

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Wow."

"Yes, it's a pretty big change for me— no pun intended." Castiel replies, feeling more and more confident by the minute.

"How are your legs?" Dean asks. "By the looks of it, you seem to be getting along pretty well on them."

"They're fine, I think." Castiel says. "It just feels so _strange._ They aren't very flexible, and I keep worrying that I'll fall over."

Dean nods. "Don't worry. You're already doing well, Cas."

 _Cas? Is that his new nickname for me?_ Castiel decides he likes it. “Is there anything I can do right now?” he asks. “I want to help out with whatever I can. I don’t want to feel as if I’m weighing anyone down.” Dean smiles, waving a hand.

“Don’t worry, you’re not weighing us down. I was going to wait until you were more confident on your legs, but if you really want to help, I suppose I can’t turn you down on that.”

“So, what should I do?”

Dean pauses and strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Well, I can’t think of much right now, but I suppose you might be able to help Bobby with navigation. Even if he’s too ill-tempered to let you help, you could still learn a thing or two from him.” He points over towards the stern of the ship, where a short, bearded man stands at a peculiar wheel-shaped object on an elevated stage-like structure. “He’s right over there.”

Castiel nods. “Will do.” he says briskly, walking on slightly shaky legs in the direction Dean pointed to.

 

Climbing stairs is hard. Castiel has to give the humans credit for doing this all the damn time—they must have very strong legs. When he reaches the top of the stairs, he's greeted by an unimpressed face. "About time, boy." the man says gruffly. "The name's Bobby Singer."

"Dean told me to come to you." Castiel informs him. "Said you could give me something to do." Bobby nods, as if this has happened many times before, and something tells Castiel it has.

* * *

 

At first, Castiel barely notices the sun setting. But as he sits on the steps,looking out over the horizon, he sees amber sunbeams hitting the water in a way he's never seen before. Underwater sunsets were never interesting, just a brief greenish glow from above the water before all goes dark. But as he stares at the setting sun, watching its dying glow paint the water gold and violet, he's filled with a sense of quiet awe. _Are all sunsets on the surface like this?_ he wonders, and that must be the case, because the rest of the crew barely seems to think anything of it. He just sits there, wonderstruck, thinking about how much happened today. He grew legs, for the Sea's sake, legs. Now he's on a human ship in the middle of nowhere, headed far away from everyone and everything he's ever known—but isn't that what he wanted?

"Hey, Cas." a familiar voice says from behind him.

He turns around to see Dean, smiling, standing behind him. "Hello, Dean." he says, smiling back faintly.

"Your first sunset?" Dean asks.

Castiel nods. "I had no idea they were so beautiful. Underwater, all we get is a greenish glow from the sun, and then it disappears. It's easy to miss. This, though, is... absolutely gorgeous."

Dean sits down next to him, looking out at the sunset. "If you think this is something, just wait 'til you see the sunrises."

"Are they even nicer?" Castiel asks, surprised that something this lovely would be inferior to any other natural phenomenon.

"They sure are."

"Then you will have to show me."

Dean grins. "Yeah, I suppose I will."

They sit there in silence for the rest of the sunset, watching it until the sky goes dark and the stars begin to appear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, lovelies! I'm really sorry I haven't updated in so long--I've just been super stressed over midterms and haven't had much time to work on this. I've also been suffering from some pretty big writer's block lately, so that doesn't help. Thankfully, I've added gratuitous tension to this chapter, so that should hopefully lessen your anger. Enjoy!
> 
> I don't own Supernatural, as should be obvious.

Castiel couldn't sleep last night. It's not that the hammock in the cabin he had been assigned to is uncomfortable, it was just that he found it hard to breathe slowly and evenly when it's air he's breathing instead of water. He's awake far before anyone else, and he doesn't want to wake anybody, so he lies there awkwardly, curled up on the hammock, dangling a few feet off the ground. He's both startled and relieved when the door opens and Dean pokes his head into the room, yelling "Rise and shine, everyone!" at the top of his lungs. He sits up, yawns and stretches, before jumping down from the hammock onto the wooden floor and heading out onto the deck. After a quick meal (human food is so _different_ ) he's ready to go find Dean and ask him for an assignment, but a hand is placed on his shoulder from behind. Castiel turns to see who it is, and comes face-to-face with a remarkably tall man with shaggy hair. "Sorry to interrupt you," he says. "I'm Sam, Dean's younger brother and co-captain. Do you think I might be able to talk to you for a bit?"

Castiel thinks it would be rather rude to do anything but accept, and follows Sam to his office. "Have a seat, Castiel." Sam says, so Cas sits down in a worn, polished wood chair across from the desk.

"Is something wrong?" he asks worriedly.

Sam shakes his head. "Of course not. There's no need to worry—I just wanted to talk to you about Dean."

"What about him?"

Sam smiles. "Before you showed up, he was really worried about Dad. He was convinced that he'd never see him again. I don't know what it is about you, but in these last couple days, he's cheered up significantly. It seems you've given him new hope of finding Dad, even if you didn't do anything. At any rate, it's been a big boost to the whole crew's morale to see him happy. So thank you, Castiel." Sam concludes. "We're all glad to have you here."

Castiel smiles softly and nods. "Thank you for allowing me to stay."

Suddenly, the door behind them opens and Dean barges in. "Sammy, have you seen—" he starts, but then realizes Castiel is there too. "Oh, there you are, Cas. I was looking for you."

"Hello, Dean." Castiel waves a little. "Is everything alright?"

"It's okay, don't worry. I just kind of realized something, though."

"Yes?"

"Well," Dean says, "This is, well, a pirate ship. We're pirates, Cas. There will be fights, and you're going to need to be able to defend yourself."

"What do you mean?" Castiel asks, confused. "I can defend myself perfectly well. My teeth and claws are sharp, and I have been using them to fight for as long as I can remember."

Dean sighs, putting a hand to his forehead. "No, Cas, that's not what I mean. You need to learn how to use human weapons."

"Oh."

"Now," Dean continues, "I don't really see you as much of a fencing person. Besides, I don't want you to just rush into battle and get yourself killed right away. So that's why I've decided to teach you how to shoot."

"Shoot?" Castiel tilts his head slightly to one side. "What do you mean?"

"You know, like with a gun."

"I'm sorry, Dean, but I have no idea what that is."

"Then this is going to take a while."

* * *

 

"Alright." Dean says, gesturing to the worn, polished flintlock pistol in his hands. They're out on the deck now, which is mostly empty—Dean instructed everyone to give them a wide berth in case Castiel misfired or anything went wrong. "So, can you tell me the steps for loading?"

"First, the powder, then the shot." Castiel lists, counting on his fingers to keep track of the steps. "Use the ramrod to stuff everything down into the muzzle, then use more powder to prime the flashpan. It can then be cocked and fired."

Dean grins and nods. "Perfect! Now, here comes the fun part: actually shooting the thing."

 _Do I really need to learn this?_ Castiel thinks to himself. He's more than a little scared; all that power to kill so easily, held in his hands? Merfolk have no technology remotely like this—it's almost unheard of to kill one of your own kind. However, Dean did tell him that humans are far less merciful than merfolk, and the battles are likely to be even more brutal since this is a ship of pirates. That being said, Castiel decides it would be best if he learned how to defend himself.

"So," he says hesitantly, "How do I do that?"

Dean smiles a bit. "It's easy, really." he says. "You don't have to look that worried."

 _That's not what I'm worried about._ "Apologies. I just... don't want to mess up."

"That's why I'm helping you." Dean holds the gun out by its barrel, the handle towards Castiel. "Here, take it. I'll help you with your technique." Castiel takes the pistol from Dean, making sure to keep his fingers off the trigger. "Now, hold it out in front of you. Make sure to keep your arms straight." Dean says. "Don't be afraid of it. It won't hurt you as long as you hold it away from yourself."

Castiel holds his arms out, pointing the muzzle towards an empty barrel Dean had set out as a target, about twenty feet away. His hands are shaking.

"No, that's not right. You're shrinking away from it." Dean remarks. "Here, let me adjust your stance." Dean steps in behind Castiel, pressing his chest against the other man's back. He snakes his arms around Castiel's, straightening them out and keeping them from shaking. "There." he whispers. Castiel can feel Dean's warm breath on his head-fin and for some reason, it makes him shiver a little. "Now aim for the barrel and pull the trigger." Dean says in an encouraging tone. Castiel carefully extends one index finger and hooks it around the trigger, pulling it back towards him. The sudden loud _BANG_ startles him, causing him to fall back. Luckily, Dean is there to catch him. "Not bad for your first try." he says, smiling warmly. He points to the barrel, which now has a small, smoking hole in its side.

 _I did that?_ Castiel thinks. "Thank you, Dean, for your help."

The rest of the day passes with a blur, and Castiel finds himself sleeping soundly that night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Storm's coming." Charlie says grimly, still looking out at the clouds. She turns to Castiel. "Go tell the captains."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey, my lovely readers! I'm so sorry I've abandoned you for such a long time. When writer's block hits me, it hits hard. But look! A new chapter for you!  
> On another note, which would you prefer from me in the future? Short chapters, of a similar length to the previous ones, released more often, or longer ones that take more time? "Cast" your vote in the comments please!
> 
> (haha get it? Like casting a fishing pole? Becausethisfichasanauticalthemeohgodthatwasterrible)
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

Castiel squints and mutters a few curses as he looks out over the ocean, the sunlight bouncing off the aquamarine water and right into his eyes. What he wouldn't give for a few clouds to blot out the sun for a bit...   
It's now his tenth day onboard the _Black Impala,_ and he's started to get the hang of things around here. It seems that since he has no permanent job on the ship yet, the rest of the crew decided to teach him a little of everything so that he can help out where he's needed until Dean gives him an actual station to work. Today, he and Charlie are up in the crow's nest on the tallest mast, looking for islands and other ships. "So, see anything?" the redhead chirps.

  
"Not unless you do." Castiel grumbles. "The sun's so bright, I'm practically blind."

  
"Yeah, that's to be expected." Charlie says, leaning out over the railing and shading her eyes with one hand. "You get used to it." Suddenly, she perks up and points down at the water with an outstretched arm bedecked with bracelets and rings. "Look!"

  
"What is it?" Castiel asks, now intrigued.

  
"Nothing big, but look right over there. Dolphins!"

  
Castiel cranes his neck and crowds next to Charlie to get a look, and lo and behold, he sees a pod of spinner dolphins in the water a few hundred feet away. It's a large pod—at least three dozen—and there even seem to be a few pups with them. He and Charlie watch them jump and twist out of the waves, the dark gray stripes on their bodies barely visible from this distance. He remembers running into a similar pod when he was younger, back when he was out exploring with Gabriel and Lucifer. He'd swum alongside them for a while, listening as their clicks and squeals filled the water. Anna had scolded them furiously when they returned late, but Gabriel and Lucifer had just laughed, which made Anna even angrier, which even Castiel had had to admit was funny. He smiles faintly at this memory, this tiny moment back when things were better, when everyone was together, before Lucifer—  
No. Castiel shakes his head, refusing to think any more on the subject. The dolphins are starting to turn east, and the waves are getting choppier. As the ship rises and falls, Castiel makes the mistake of looking down, which gives him vertigo and makes his stomach turn. Charlie is smiling, clutching to the railing like she loves it, her short red hair blowing in the breeze. "Looks like things are getting a little rough." she remarks, before her eyes are drawn to the horizon. Her face falls.

"Oh, crap." 

Castiel shifts his gaze so that he can see the source of her worry. The sky in front of them is nearly smothered in gray clouds. "What is it? What's wrong?"

  
"Storm's coming." Charlie says grimly, still looking out at the clouds. She turns to him. "Go tell the captains."

  
Castiel carefully climbs down the rigging, making sure not to slip or misstep, and makes his way to the stern of the ship. He knocks at the door to Sam and Dean's office, stopping when he hears the muffled conversation on the other side of the door stop. "Oh, hey Cas." Dean greets, smiling slightly as he opens the door. "What's the problem?"

  
His head-fins flaring with worry, Castiel steps into the room. "Charlie... she says there's a storm on the horizon."  
Dean glances over at Sam, making eye contact with him. They both nod resolutely, and Sam sets down the papers in his hands before heading out of the office. As the door swings shut, Castiel can hear his voice calling out to the crew to prepare for the storm.  
He turns to Dean. "What can I do to help?"

  
Dean ponders this for a couple seconds, thoughtfully bringing his hand to his chin. "Just see who needs help." he instructs. "Don't bite off more than you can chew, though."

  
Castiel nods and sets his jaw. "I'll do what I can."

The wind has picked up significantly by the time Castiel steps outside, and the waves have gone from bright blue-green to a stony grey. "Cas!" Dean shouts. "Come help me with these barrels."

  
"What are you doing?" Castiel asks as he hurries over, reaching down to help Dean pick up one of the large, heavy wooden barrels.

  
Dean mutters a quick thanks before wiping the sweat from his brow. "We're getting these below decks. Don't want to lose what's left of our food before the next stop we make."

  
After a few minutes, their combined forces have moved most of the barrels inside, but now rain patters down harshly onto the deck like a storm of bullets. The ship lilts from side to side as the waves grow larger. Suddenly, thunder crackles and lightning zigzags down like a long, spidery finger, lighting up the whole sky for a fraction of a moment. The ship unexpectedly lurches to the port side. Castiel steps backwards but ends up slipping on the rain-slick deck. He falls, tumbling over all the way to the starboard railing. He claws out into the storm and grabs hold of the railing, just stopping him from falling into the turbulent water now lapping against his toes. He tries to cry out for help, but his words are drowned out by the water rapidly filling his lungs.

In shock, Dean drops his barrel. He rushes over to Castiel, but forgets about the barrel that now hurtles towards him. It crashes into Dean, knocking him to the ground. Castiel clings to the railing as tightly as he can, but he can feel his grip weakening on the wet, slippery wood. The ship tilts harshly again, and the same barrel begins to roll again--straight towards Castiel. Before he can even register what's going on, it smacks into the railing in front of him, striking his fingers with a strong enough blow to finally loose his grip. As he tumbles into the waves, he frantically waves his arms, hoping for something, _anything_ , to grab onto, but he finds nothing. He screams in agony and despair, but only a stream of bubbles pours from his mouth. _This must be what drowning feels like,_ Castiel thinks, beginning to slip in and out of consciousness, but his thoughts are interrupted by a sudden wave of pain rippling through his entire body. He tries to curl up, but his back arches out against his will. His breathing is shallow and quick-- _wait._ Breathing? Slowly, hesitantly, he puts a hand to his neck, and is shocked to find the familiar ridges and curves of gills along the sides of his throat. He experimentally tries to stretch his legs, but discovers that a tail lies in their place: his tail. Castiel looks down at himself, methodically various fins and pumping his tail back and forth in the water. Without a second thought, he clenches his fists and dives down, swimming as far and as deep as he can.


End file.
